


penny for your thoughts

by gaijin



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: M/M, in penny's pov because i love her....., just a short thing that i wrote bc i caved in to stress.........., stuff that happened before the events of the book
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 19:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11387124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaijin/pseuds/gaijin
Summary: /attempts to contribute to the snowbaz fanfic library//





	penny for your thoughts

The first time she saw Simon, he was decked in old jeans and a shirt that was just a little bit too big for him (hand me downs?) and he was clutching a red rubber ball. He tossed the ball from one hand to the other as he looked around with those big, blue eyes of his. He looked half-amazed, half-nervous, like he was expecting to wake up from a dream. 

He was still bouncing that red ball when they were standing around the bonfire, waiting for the Crucible to melt.

Suddenly, she felt invisible chains tugging on her front, and she was forced to look away.

 

-

 

_Can you feel it? All that magic stored in one person – it can't be safe. Stay away from him, Penelope._

Simon Snow. The Mage's Heir. The Chosen One –

– was holding his wand backwards. He squinted at his wand, then at the book laid out on his desk, then at his wand again. 

It was painful to watch. 

Penelope sighed. Someone had to help the poor bloke.

 

-

 

Simon himself wasn't trouble. He attracted trouble, rather. He was so full of magic, with no way to control all of it. Also, the Crucible just had to cast him with Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, who was basically trouble in human form. 

Basilton, the heir of the powerful House of Pitch, a clan which always stood in opposition to the Mage's revolution, was roommates with the Mage's heir himself; sweet, bumbling Simon with his clumsy words and childish gestures. 

It wasn't long before Simon started becoming the receiving end of Basilton's mutinous behaviour towards the Mage. 

Well, it wasn't like Penelope expected anything good to come out of such a troublesome arrangement. 

 

-

 

Simon wasn't good with words. That affected his magic. It wasn't uncommon for him to trip over his own words. And whenever Agatha Wellbelove enters the general vicinity, half his words turn into incomprehensible stutters. Nobody could blame him. Penelope was sure there was a time when half the school was at least a little bit in love with Agatha.

Agatha was a dream come true and Simon was the dorkiest dreamer. 

“Baz is looking at her again,” Simon leaned forwad to whisper to Penny. Agatha was beside him but was momentarily preoccupied. 

Penelope shifted her neck slightly to get a better view of Baz Pitch. He was on the table next to theirs and he was looking at their direction. But by the time she looked at him, he was already starting to look away.

Simon thought Baz was too evil for Agatha, but Penelope knew he was just a bit jealous. Simon was handsome, too, but Baz was – he was something else. 

Penelope frowned, “I don't think he was looking at Agatha, though,” 

She said it a little too loud and Agatha looked up at the sound of her name. 

Simon scoffed, “Who else would he be looking at?”

Penelope shrugged, “I think he was looking at you, to be honest,”

Simon rolled his eyes, “Yeah, because he's dead jealous,”

 

-

 

You'd expect that time would gradually wear down the (occasionally dangerous) antagonism between the two, but no, their tumultuous relationship as roommates just got worse and worse as time passed. 

The chimera in the woods was the last straw for Penelope. She marched up to the hallway leading to the Mage's office and tapped her feet irritably against the carpeted floor, waiting for them to emerge. When they did, Penelope wasted no time lecturing Simon. He had bruises all over and his curls were matted with dirt and sweat. There was mud on his face. Baz was more or less in the same condition, but he was cleaner, at least. Right. Because Simon couldn't even “clean as a whistle” himself without some sort of magical malfunction, so Penelope had to do it for him.

He was like a big baby. 

“So, if you went off on the chimera, why is Baz fine?” Penelope questioned as soon as Baz skulked away after pointedly ignoring her, “You'd think he'd be chalk dust by now,”

“I protected him. I tried to control my magic,” Simon grumbled. He had taken off his coat and was frowning at the tears and loose threads. 

Right. Simon was an uncontrollable human bomb, but he at least knew how to control his magic just enough to protect anyone who might be standing next to him.

“Well, why didn't you just let everything go, then?” Penelope demanded. She wasn't serious, though. She was just mad. And worried. Not the best combination. “Why didn't you just allow your magic to obliterate Baz along with the chimera? Isn't that what you've been trying to do all this time?”

Simon looked up, his big blue eyes were wide. He seemed genuinely surprised by the notion. Like he had never even thought of it.

He ducked his head and turned away from Penelope, “Don't be silly. I would never,”

She was about to say something, but the look on his face stopped her.

 

-

 

“You don't even change around each other?” Penelope actually looked up from her book.

“Yeah,” Simon replied. He was curled up on the grass next to her, with a blanket underneath him (well, it was actually just his coat. Penny spelled it for him) 

Penelope was both confused and curious, “Why? You're both guys, Simon,”

“It's an extension of our mutual paranoia,” 

Penelope rolled her eyes, “You two are ridiculous,”

Simon bolted up from the grass so that he could stare down at her. He does that sometimes, especially when they're about to argue (he thinks it gives him better chances of winning), “It's not my fault! It's Baz's!”

Penelope rolled her eyes again. 

“I'm serious! There was always something shady about him, and it was pretty obvious he didn't like the idea of sharing a room with me, but then there was a point during our first year that he stopped changing in front of me altogether. He was acting so suspicious I just had to feel paranoid! And even now, when I go out of the bathroom he looks at me like he wants to tear me apart. He gets even more irritable than usual, too. And once, he practically threw the book he was reading down and stomped out of the room. He even slammed the door, Penny!” 

Penelope rubbed her temples. That was the problem with Simon, she wasn't sure whether he was telling the truth or simply letting his antagonism with Baz get in the way of his thinking. 

“One time, he actually threw a book at me and demanded me to put a shirt on!” Simon whined, “He's so unreasonable! On top of antagonizing me all the time for no reason, he also expects me to change my habits just because he wants me to? Just because he always leaves the bathroom fully dressed doesn't mean I have to do the same!”

He rambled on,“What's wrong with lounging around in my own room shirtless, anyway? One time, I actually tried to talk to him. Who knows? Won't hurt to try. But no, no, he didn't even give me a chance. He didn't even look at me. Instead, he balled up a shirt and threw it at my head and told me to come back and talk to him when I'm “properly dressed”, whatever that means”

 

-

 

Agatha is always beautiful. Even when she's sulking in a corner by herself. 

“Agatha!” Penelope had to raise her voice to grab her attention. She half-ran, half-jogged over to her side. 

“Don't run, Penny, you're wearing a dress,”

“You were here all this time? Simon's been looking for you. I think he's going mental,”

“Right,” Agatha sounded unsure. She smoothed the skirts of her pink dress and stood up a little bit straighter. “Right,” She said again. “Let's go,”

“Where's Basilton?” Penelope asked, looking over her shoulder when she finally noticed that the dark-haired boy was nowhere in sight. He strode into the hall earlier, looking dapper and dashing in his pinstripe-tux and blood-red tie, going straight into the middle of the dance floor to where Simon and Agatha were dancing. He lured Agatha away like a devil in the night in a cliché afternoon drama and they'd disappeared together within the dizzying crowd of silk dresses and perfume. 

“Gone,” Agatha replied flatly. She didn't sound too happy about being ditched, considering she'd ditched her own date earlier. 

“Gone where? To get you a drink?”

Agatha shook her head. Her elaborate bun was probably spelled to stay perfect for the duration of the dance. “No. Just gone. He disappeared after we got out of the crowd,”

Penelope was confused, “What, you mean he took the time to orchestrate that dramatic entrance of his and lure you away from Simon and then he just....disappears?”

“Leave it,” Agatha shook her head, “Just...leave it. I never should've left Simon. Come on, show me where he is,”

 

-

 

Baz was looking at their table again. He seemed to do that more frequently since Simon and Agatha officially got together. And as always, it grated on Simon's nerves. 

Agatha sighed and patted her fuming boyfriend gently on the back, “Just ignore him, Simon. Look, your tea is getting cold,”

“That's right,” Penelope put in, raising an eyebrow at him, “And I'm not spelling it hot for you again, Simon. Eat your food already,”

“How can I eat when there's a cold-blooded vampire making heart eyes at my girlfriend?”

“Let him stare,” Agatha told him, “Why should you care about him? You're the one sitting here beside me,” 

Penelope stared at the couple in front of her. The Golden Boy and the Golden Girl. Would those two ever notice? Should she be the one to tell them that they probably don't love each other the way they think they do? But if they don't realize it themselves, they'll never get anywhere. 

“I still think he's staring at you, Simon,” Penelope said. 

“I told you, Penny, it's because he's so jealous, he can't help it,”

 

-

 

When she told Simon to go get a hobby, she was counting on something a little more not-Baz-related. Because the whole reason she told him to get a hobby was so that he could find other things to do other than obsessing over Baz's supposed schemes. 

Okay, she understood. She could sympathize. Baz did try to feed him to a chimera and he did push Simon down a flight of stairs, so she could at least fathom why Simon was always on edge when it comes to him. (“Penny! He's not just some elitist snob. He's also a vampire!”)

“Simon, stalking Baz Pitch is not a hobby.” 

Simon was busy staring at the game going on in the football pitch. 

She sighed, “Or it could be, I guess, but it is not a healthy hobby. Are you listening, Simon?”

He didn't hear her, apparently. She looked back at the game just in time to see Baz score an impressive goal. His mates cheered and whooped and slapped his back. Baz flicked his damp black hair back and accepted their high-fives. He looked like he owned the entire field. He really was something else, that Baz Pitch.

Penelope looked back at Simon, “Simon, are you satisfied now? Simon?”

You'd think there was strong hypnotic magic laced around Baz's form with the way Simon was looking at him. He does that sometimes. He just spaces out and his eyes get all glassy. Penelope sighed and shifted her attention back to the football pitch. It seemed like they were to going to be out there for a little while longer. 

 

-

 

“Simon, you want to get something to eat?”

Simon shook his head. 

Well, this was new. 

“Well, you better stop sulking like that. Simon?”

“I'm not sulking. And we just ate, anyway,”

Penelope sighed. She smoothed her skirt behind her thighs and accompanied Simon on the grass. She knew what he's been up to these past few days. He found out that Baz was skulking around the Catacombs every night, and so he decided to skulk after him. Typical Simon. 

“Then what's the problem, Simon? You found him, didn't you? You caught him in the Catacombs,”

“Yeah, I did,” 

“So what, you're annoyed because you didn't see him dragging a limp body around with him? You're annoyed because you still have no evidence to back up your vampire theory?”

“No, it's just – he's so infuriating!”

Or maybe you just don't know what do with him, Penny thought. 

“He was drinking down there. Beside his mum's grave,”

Penelope was puzzled, “Drinking blood?” 

He shook his head, “No. Booze. I think he was a little drunk,” 

“Really,”

“Honestly, what is he doing?”

“...”

“What is he really doing down there? What is he looking for down there?”

She was quiet for a moment, then bumped shoulders with him until he looked up and met her eyes. She smiled gently at him. 

“What about you, Simon? What are you really looking for?” 

 

-

 

Penelope removed her glasses briefly so she could rub her temples. Simon was beside her, rifling through an old text, sometimes stopping to jot something down on his notebook. Sometimes, he would lean over to inspect her worksheet, just to see how far she'd gone on her essay. She elbowed him on the ribs on the fifth time she caught him.

“Hey, you're not going to get any work done if you go on like that,”

Simon groaned, “You're already more than halfway done!”

“It's because I don't waste time comparing my progress to anyone else's,” Penelope ruffled his curls. She liked Simon's hair. It was bronze under the dim light of the hallways but it shimmered like gold under the light of the sun. His curls were loose and soft and she liked the feeling of them shifting between her fingers. 

She decided to help him. She always does. “On which part are you now?”

“Vampires,” Simon replied. 

“Simon, there are tons of passages about vampires in that book you're holding,”

“Everything about this book is just way too complicated. I think I just got even more confused after reading it,” Simon whined. 

Peneloped raised a brow, “Well, then, why don't you just ask one? You have a living specimen in your room, don't you?”

Simon chuckled, “He'd probably send me flying, Anathema or no. You want me to ask him if he's a  
vampire?”

“Ask him what it feels like to be dead,” Penelope put in. 

Simon's eyebrows got all scrunched up, “He's not,”

Penelope blinked, “Not what?”

“Dead. He's not dead,”

“So you finally admit that you were wrong about him being a vampire?”

“No,” Simon scowled, “I never said that,”

“All bloodeaters are dead, Simon,” Penelope retorted dryly. 

“Not him. I mean, he's not dead. He can't be dead,”

Penelope was just joking around. She didn't think he'd take it seriously. She wasn't even sure what to make of his little theory. Baz Pitch looked too much like a vampire to be one. You'd think he'd at least cast some sort of glamour spell on that widow's peak of his to make himself less conspicuous. 

“He's not dead, Penny. It's Baz we're talking about here. He's not dead. I'd know if he were. I'd feel it,” 

Penelope bit her lower lip and turned away. She doesn't like to look at Simon whenever he has that particular expression on his face. So fiercely determined and full of – full of something. It's like stumbling into a forbidden chamber, or accidentally walking into an intimate scene. It feels so private. It feels like something she isn't supposed to see. 

 

-

 

The Mage was dead. 

Penelope's hands were trembling, and she curled them both into fists to steady them. In front of her, Simon was covering the Mage's body with a tattered jacket. His hands were trembling as well. He was staring at the corpse with such an empty, broken expression it practically broke her heart to look at him. What did sweet Simon ever do to deserve such a twisted fate? She wanted to crawl over to him and pat his back or hold his trembling fists, anything to make her feel less helpless. But she couldn't move.

Then Baz was there, all bloodied up and bruised, but he dragged himself over to Simon and pulled him into his arms. Simon actually let him do it.

Penny watched, a bit fascinated, as Simon (who always said he hated Baz) rested his head against the other boy's chest, and Baz (who tried to feed Simon to a chimera once) wrapped his arms tighter around the shivering boy. The rest was a bit of a blur. She could hear Simon murmuring something to Baz, and Baz whispering his replies, his lips close to Simon's ear. She was distracted by Simon lifting his limp arms so he could wrap them loosely around Baz's waist, and Baz responding by smoothing his golden curls away from his forehead. 

Then Baz said something that made Simon lift his head. They exchanged words that way, with Simon's head tilting upwards and Baz's head tilting downwards to meet Simon's eyes with the gentlest of gazes. 

“I killed him,” She heard Simon say. His voice was cracking. 

“It's going to be okay,” Baz replied, tightening his hold around the other boy. “It's alright, love,” 

Their years at Watford came flooding back to Penelope without warning.

Baz's attention. Simon's confusion. Baz staring at Simon in the dining hall. Simon wandering around the Catacombs late at night. Baz changing his clothes in the bathroom. Simon's desperation when Baz failed to show up at the beginning of the school year. Baz luring Agatha away during dances. Agatha. Agatha and Simon. Agatha and Baz. 

She could almost hear Simon's voice, saying, “Yeah, he's staring at us because he's _dead jealous,”_

__

__

_I can't believe I missed it,_ Penny almost laughed despite the sombre mood and the crippling exhaustion.

Not Simon and Agatha. Not Baz and Agatha. It wasn't about Agatha all along, and Agatha probably knew it, too. 

It was always about Simon and Baz.

_Everything is starting to make sense._

**Author's Note:**

> /attempts to contribute to the snowbaz fanfic library//


End file.
